It's Pansy's Turn To Cry
by sarahyyy
Summary: “No. You are one in a million. And you are mine.” He laughed as she began, much to her immense horror, to tear up again. Harry/Pansy humorous oneshot.


**"It's Pansy's Turn To Cry"**

**Disclaimer: **Oh yes! I own them all. (That is if you believe me, of course.)

**A/N: **Written as a part of my series of proposals. It's Harry's turn to move Pansy! =D

* * *

She set his tea down right in front of him and proceeded to sit directly in front of him, staring at him unsmilingly.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me, Potter?"

If he was panicking, he didn't show it.

"No. Why would you ask so?" His reply was smooth and sounded right. Had she been the ignorant woman she was yesterday, she wouldn't have known that he was lying. How dare he lie to her?

She told herself that she was angry that he lied to her. But that wasn't the case. The thing was that she was angry that he had managed to fool her for so long, that she hadn't been able to read his moves.

She had always been good at it. Reading his moves, that was. She had always been able to tell what he was thinking, what he wanted to do.

"Are you sure?" she asked again, just for good measures, just to see if he would crack.

"What could I possibly want to tell you?"

"I was out with the ladies this morning," she paused to sip at her tea, "and they have been telling me some things that they've heard from other women of our circle."

"Oh?" He mimicked her actions by sipping his tea.

"They've heard some rumours about us," she continued slowly.

"Was it something hurtful?" he asked, his features softening into a concerned look. "Love, rumours are but rumours. Just leave them be."

She hated it when he called her 'love'. It always distracted her. She sipped at her tea again to stall for time, willing herself to concentrate. "It's not something hateful. It's quite…_interesting_, so to say. Astoria, in particular, is very adamant that the rumours are true. She supposedly heard it from Draco who heard it from you."

"Oh?" He arched an eyebrow. "I can't imagine any rumours about us that would spark your interest so."

"Aren't you even going to ask what it is?" She frowned.

"No." He smiled.

"Don't you _want_ to know?"

"No." He set his teacup down on the table. "If you wanted to tell me, you would have already said so by now. You are baiting me, love."

She fumed.

When had she gotten _that_ easy to read? How was it that their roles were reversing?

She let out a dejected sigh. "Everyone out there is saying that you've been out shopping for wedding rings. And that you are going to propose. Apparently, it's been going on for _ages_! And I don't know what they're talking about because _obviously_, you haven't proposed, and looking at things my way, you're _not going to propose_. I am very confused, Potter, and you had better have an explanation for me right now."

"I'm not very sure what to tell you, love…"

She pursed her lips and kept silent.

"I was waiting for the right moment, if you must know," he admitted, watching as her eyes lit up in surprise and joy, "That one spontaneous moment that you would remember forever. I arranged a candlelight dinner for us tonight, actually, but I'm guessing that this is memorable enough."

She kept her facial expressions to the minimum, even when he knelt to the ground in front of her, holding out a ring. Inside, though, her heart was beating so fast that she was sure that if it got any faster, she would surely die.

He cleared his throat before he began. "I had a nice speech planned out for tonight, actually, but I don't really think that you would want that right now. Our love is stronger than words could possibly express and you know that I'm not very good with words. But I'm willing to love you for a lifetime, to use my actions to show you how much I love you, how much I need you."

She felt her eyes dampen and realized that she was close to crying. "Potter, you should just ask me to marry you already."

Harry laughed. "Pansy Parkinson, will you do me the great honour of marrying me and being my wife?"

She nodded, and much to her chagrin, her tears fell. Harry slipped the ring on her finger.

"Are you actually crying, love? For me?"

She hit him on the arm playfully. "You couldn't have done with a non-sentimental proposal, couldn't you?"

"I thought all women liked mushy proposals that made them weep?"

She mock glared. "Do I look like 'all women' to you?"

He pulled her close towards him. "No. You are one in a million. And you are mine."

He laughed as she began (much to her immense horror) to tear up again.


End file.
